


Minerva

by scarletrebel



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletrebel/pseuds/scarletrebel
Summary: This was a paid commission through my ko-fi for queencoeurl on tumblr. They asked me to surprise them so I wrote a little thing about their Guardian Warlock, Minerva.





	Minerva

The seeping cold of Titan takes more than a short trip across the solar system to be rid of. As she materialises on Nessus, Minerva tugs at the sides of her armour. For all the abstract nature of her fluffy-looking chest piece, it does little to actually shield her from the cold. She can still feel the thunderous storm of the ocean-planet, it leeches underneath her armour, attaches itself to her skin and sinks deep into her bones.

The Coldheart in her hands doesn’t help, either. Frost pulsates, crystallised along its tubes. It only worsens the numbness in her hands.

“I need to warm up,” she mutters. “Suggestions?”

Her Ghost materialises at her shoulder. “There’s a group of Vex trying to fend off the Fallen from a construct near the Exodus Black. Interested?”

She hums playfully, and practically feels her Ghost roll its eye. As she summons her sparrow, she says; “lead the way.”

Nessus is as beautiful as it is deadly. Minerva wonders if this is what Mercury looked like all those years ago, as it transformed from a wonderful garden planet the Traveler gifted Humanity, to the ever spinning, ever crumbling mess of a machine it is now. She races past blood red trees and formidable Vex plinths, both growing and changing the face of the planet. The sun is beating softly down on her, the gaping maw of The Leviathan a sombre reminder across the skyline. The radiating heat helps, but she turns the throttle as the marker to the fight gets closer.

She rides the dips and valleys, the thrumming of the engine coursing through her body, following her Ghosts coordinates to the chaos. Framed by the destruction of the Exodus Black, a deceivingly delicate framework of metal rises into the air, growing more powerful with each Vex that kneels before it. Minerva dismounts, already feeling her joints move more freely thanks to the heat. She rolls her shoulders, takes Coldheart, and runs into the fray.

The first Vex to spot her are dead before they can fire. The Harpies copper frames falling to the ashy dust alert the Fallen above her, so she switches to something long range and aims between each set of four eyes, not taking the time to watch the ether eek from the corpses.

She runs still towards the Conflux. Her Ghost has tapped into the goings on, configuring the power of the Vex and letting her know how much time she has left versus how many more of the machines want to sacrifice themselves. She likes a challenge, and so she picks off the closest Vex and plants her boots in front of the Vex structure.

Like a storm that passes quietly through, electricity sparks the air. More Vex arrive and Minerva delights to see the Hydra that floats menacingly over to her. She deals with the Minotaur’s stamping their way over first, Coldheart depleting their shields easily enough. One gets too close for comfort, swinging for her and only catching her ankle as she glides backwards, chucking a grenade that sticks to the Vex frame and explodes, taking a Goblin with it.

When she lands, it’s with a grunt, and she looks up at the advancing Hydra.

There’s something so satisfying about fighting in the skeleton of the Exodus Black. (Not that she’d ever say that to Failsafe’s… Face?) It’s the way the ground slopes up high and then dips low, how some of the Vex architecture forces its way through the Golden Age steel, providing great cover if you know how to work a battlefield. There’s easy advantages for the battle-worn, but great missteps for the uninitiated. She’s seen many a Guardian on Patrol duck under the cover of the ships former exo-skeleton only to find themselves in the perfect line of fire for a Vandal wire-rifle.

Minerva makes no such mistake.

She runs towards the Hydra, kicking ash up and into the air with every hard pound of her feet. She hops and kicks even harder against some Vex infrastructure, glides, and summons the Void.

It takes over her whole being, crashes around her insides, hungry and demanding but quiet. Her Light pulls and twists and warps with the Void, a catalyst to create the bomb that extends from her core – colder than any oceanic moon, any coveted weapon – and pushes its way through her arm. The indigo hued, blinding manifested energy shoots from her hand and attaches itself to the Hydra. Its conduit body screams and writhes in defiance, its three shields not able to protect it from the black hole that dints and crushes and consumes the metal of its being. They begin to flicker, and as they do Minerva aims for the Hydra’s piercing eye and takes one, two, three shots. The thing crumples, falls, and explodes. She lands, bends her knee and sets her palm flat across the ground. A wave of air ripples towards her, and makes the bottom of her robes flutter behind her rapidly.

She turns back to the construct in time to see it flicker away, the Vex surrounding it bow their heads across their arms and dissipate.

“Warmed up now?” Her Ghost asks.

She laughs in response. “Enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again buddy!


End file.
